


Oneironautic

by Myroomisblack



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: M/M, Prison Dream
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 02:28:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29752704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myroomisblack/pseuds/Myroomisblack
Summary: Since Dream has been put in jail, he hasn't really been able to see any of his friends. When his dreams are the only place where he feels happy, he starts writing them down to try and prevent himself from forgetting them. Until one day he wakes up from a nightmare and something just doesn't feel right...
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Kudos: 9





	Oneironautic

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this because I was looking for a Dream prison story and just couldn't find one I liked. I've never written a full-on story before so any comments would be really appreciated. 
> 
> Also, let me know if you guys like this lol

His first few days in the cell were easy, they gave him the time he needed to process everything that had happened which led to him being imprisoned. He replayed Tommy and Tubbo saying goodbye to each other, and the feeling of victory that this brought him. He replayed the sense of dread that started to sink in when all the other members of the SMP started to show up after he showed Tommy his plans that would have allowed him to have power over everybody. He even relived Tommy's visit following his first night in the prison. 

But there's only so many times that one can replay the same events in their head, without feeling like they're going crazy. He started to overanalyze and question things he had no control of. When had Sapnap given up on him? Why didn't Techno come and help him after he tried to cash in his favor? When did everyone turn against him? It was the cycle of overanalyzing that he had to stop, he was sure it wasn't healthy.

It was around the second week when Dream started to really think of George. He would imagine his face in the wall of lava at the far end of the cell. He would hear his high-pitched giggles and screams while sitting in silence for hours. He could imagine George’s reaction to him pulling another one of his pranks on Sam. 

At around the one-month mark, he noticed he was starting to forget the smaller details of George’s voice. As much as he wanted to remember, he couldn’t recall the warm and raspy tone of his voice whenever he was sleepy. He was struggling to remember the high-pitched tones that inched into his voice whenever he was nervous or under pressure. He didn’t want to forget him. He wouldn’t let himself. 

Soon after this realization, Dream started dreaming for the first time in a long time. And of course, his dreams all revolved around George. Sometimes it was him reliving some of the days and nights they spent together, like them working on the community house or just sitting together watching the sunset and losing themselves in the conversation. Other nights, he dreamed about adventures that were yet to come, like leaving the politics behind and just traveling far into the world and settling down somewhere. It didn’t matter to him whether it was the past or the future. At this point, he didn’t really care that it was just a made-up version his brain was creating, as long as he got to see George again.

Nowadays, it felt like his dreams were the only place where he could see him, the only place he felt happy. So he had to do whatever he could to keep writing them down. At first, Sam didn’t appreciate the number of blank books he kept requesting, but after promising to stop burning his clocks in exchange for the books, Sam agreed. 

He would wake up, and the first thing he wanted to do was reach for one of the books in his chest to write down that night’s dream. He wrote every single detail he could remember from his dreams. The silky smooth feel of running his finger’s through George’s hair as he laid his head on Dream’s lap. The slight rosy blush on his cheeks that would appear whenever he got flustered. The serious expression that would take control of his face whenever he had had enough of people messing with him. 

By now, Dream was used to the routine. He welcomed it even. It gave his life the sense of structure it was lacking. It helped keep him together because as time went on, he was losing himself. He was losing George. And he would do anything to keep from losing him. He had to, as George was the only person that genuinely mattered to him.


End file.
